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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655214">your name like a song i sing to myself</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JewFlexive/pseuds/JewFlexive'>JewFlexive</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Child Abduction Is Bad But No One Has Told Mages That, Family Drama, Gen, It will get worse before it gets better, Jaskier | Dandelion Has a Past, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, POV Multiple, Past Child Abuse, and then gets involved in the affairs of men, geralt says 'i don't get involved in the affairs of men', in which yennefer unlearns some toxic behaviors, jaskier is a bisexual disaster with a tragic backstory and geralt is the witcher who loves him, no beta we die like renfri, this is angsty lads, yennefer: it costs 400 dollars to see a therapist but it's free to kill people and steal houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:53:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655214</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JewFlexive/pseuds/JewFlexive</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>{Jaskier remembers reading somewhere that hate was just love reflected, that hate was just love pushed one step too far. The part of Jaskier that is still Julek can’t imagine ever hating Yenna, that boy’s love for her too pure, too unspoiled for him to even contemplate the possibility. But Jaskier can hate Yennefer, can hate the heartless witch who stole his sister’s eyes and his best and only friend, who sounds so much like Yenna and yet is nothing like her at all.</p><p>Of course, he does see parts of Yenna in Yennefer: the part of Yenna that had longed to be a queen, the part of Yenna that had never bothered to learn Bianka, Iza, and Marcin’s names, the part of Yenna that had lied to him through her teeth when she promised that she’d return to Julek, promised that she’d never abandon the little boy whose songs made the whole world fall silent and listen. But this, this is a terrible thought, this is a thought that complicates Julek's love for his beautiful, funny sister and renders the forty years he spent as Julian Pankratz meaningless, and Jaskier can’t have that, he wouldn’t survive that, so he pushes it aside.}</p><p>A story about two siblings that spans three names, eight decades, and too many secrets to count.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>205</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>your name like a song i sing to myself</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first fic in The Witcher fandom and I'm really excited to be sharing it with everyone! Please comment if you like this-- Comments are my lifeblood and I really want to see what you all think! </p><p>Some notes on the universe:<br/>1) Yennefer and Julek are 8 years apart in age-- Julian is six years old when Tissaia takes Yennefer away.<br/>2) Julek is a Polish diminutive of the name Julian so it seemed fitting.<br/>3) I cannot stress enough that this is going to be an angsty story. There is a happy ending and some real good fluff by the last chapter, but if you're looking for schmoop, this is not the story for you.<br/>4) For plot reasons, the Pankratz family is from Lyria, not Kerack-- Alexandre Ferrant Pankratz is Earl of Turnifen, and his son Julian hold his subsidiary title, Viscount of Elsterberg. Lyria is south of Aerdin and north of Rivia. Vengerberg is on the southern border of Aerdin.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Julek is five years old and his sister is the most beautiful thing in the whole entire world.</p><p>Father says that the girl in the barn is not his sister, that the girl in the barn is an abomination, is a demon sent to punish Mama for her sins, and it is only because Father is too kind for his own good that he hasn’t ground her into pig feed already. Father says that Julek ought to stay away from the girl in the barn if he knows what’s good for him. Father says that if he hears Julek call the girl in the barn <em> sister </em> again, he’ll box Julek’s ears until they never stop ringing.</p><p>Father says a lot of things. Julek is getting very good at not listening.</p><p>Julek’s sister’s name is Yennefer, but he calls her Yenna. She has eyes the color of violets and a funny smile, and her feather-light kisses make the scrapes on Julek’s knees and the bruises on his face feel better, even if they’re brand new and still aching. Her voice is pretty-- not as pretty as Julek’s, she always says, teasing, because no one's voice is as pretty as Julek’s, whose singing makes everyone stop and hum along and Mama very, very nervous-- and her laugh reminds Julek of rainwater, fresh and clean and crisp. She has a crooked back, but she can do her chores twice as fast as Julek and lift him up up up above her head to make him shriek in delight, so he doesn’t really mind it the way that Bianka, Iza, and Marcin seem to. Her pretty eyes and crooked back and funny smile are all what make Yennefer beautiful-- they’re different and new and nothing like anything else in dusty, colorless Vengerberg, so <em> of course </em> they’re beautiful. </p><p>Yennefer calls him <em> little fool </em>and tickles his stomach until he can’t breathe whenever he tells her she's beautiful, and her purple eyes are always a little sadder after, but Julek isn’t worried. One day, Yenna will believe him when he tells her she’s beautiful, and he tells her so every single morning, because maybe, just maybe, today will be the day that she believes him. </p><p>Yenna’s eyes are the color of violets and Julek’s eyes are the color of cornflowers, so their favorite Make-Believe is when they pretend that they live in a big garden, with roses and lilacs and buttercups. Yenna is the Queen of the Wildflowers and Julek is the Prince of Summer, and together they rule from thrones made of tree trunks and ivy. They’ve played Garden Court for so long that Julek can’t remember when it started, and even though it is not the only Make-Believe his clever sister has invented, it is by far Julek’s favorite, because Yenna never looks happier than when Julek calls her Your Majesty, clambering up onto her lap to place a crown of dandelions on top of her dark head. </p><p>There’s a reason for that, Julek knows, and it’s not a pretty, funny reason. He knows this instinctively, without having to ask, knows this the way he knows to keep out of Father’s way when he smells sour and talks too loud, knows this the way he knows not to ask the name of that special plant that Mama puts into her tea once a month whenever Father can’t see. But Yenna is beautiful and Yenna is clever and Yenna says that she loves Julek with all her heart, so Julek ignores the sad, sharp feeling he gets when she cries a little during Garden Court and sings a pretty song instead, something simple and slow that makes the tears in Yenna’s purple eyes dry up as she starts to hum along.</p><p><em> Oh, bring me your violet lady,<br/>
</em> <em> Build her an ivy throne.<br/>
</em> <em> Oh, I’ll be the Duke of Daisies,<br/>
</em> <em> So she’ll never be alone. </em></p><p>“Are you my Duke of Daisies, then?” Yenna asks, her funny smile growing as she pulls Julek close. Julek giggles as she wraps a strong arm around his middle and presses loud, smacking kisses to his cheek. “I thought you wanted to be the Prince of Summer?”</p><p>“Summer didn’t <em> rhyme</em>, Yenna,” Julek answers, exasperated, as he plays with her fingers, pressing his ear to his shoulder to escape the attack of kisses. He can feel her silent laughter at his back and it makes him grin. “All good songs <em> hafta </em> rhyme, Mistress Miri said so.”</p><p>“Well,” Yenna murmurs, pressing her cheek to the top of Julek’s head. “I think that was a <em>very</em> <em>good</em> song, Julek. So good that I’m naming you the Duke of Daisies <em>and </em>the Prince of Summer.”</p><p>“I don’t need to be the Duke of Daisies,” Julek shrugs, nestling closer into the warmth of his sister’s arms, pressing his cheek against her chest so that he can hear her heartbeat. It’s dark in the barn, now, and past Julek’s bedtime, but he only gets to see Yenna after supper, and he doesn’t want to waste a second, so he tries not to yawn. If he yawns, she’ll make him go back inside to sleep with Bianka, Iza, and Marcin, who are boring and don’t like it when Julek sings to himself in bed. “I just need to be with you.”</p><p>Yenna doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just squeezes Julek a little more tightly. </p><p>“I’m with you, my little prince,” Yenna whispers, her voice sounding wet and shaky. Julek presses a little closer on instinct. “And I will be with you for forever and always, come rain or shine.”</p><p>(Years and lifetimes later, that simple, slow melody will become an epic ballad polished enough to win Jaskier his first bardic competition in the great city of Oxenfurt. But for now, it is only a little wisp of magic, a little hint of Julek’s love that keeps Yennefer company as she sleeps on the cold, hard ground of a grimy, musty barn in the heart of Vengerberg.)</p>
<hr/><p>As Yennefer is being haggled over like a piece of almost-expired meat, her only consolation is that Julek, laughing, lovely Julek, is still out playing by the river with Mistress Miri and her nephews. It is bad enough for Yennefer to have to see her mother (no, not her mother, a <em> real </em> mother wouldn’t have locked Yennefer in a barn, a <em> real </em> mother would have left Father for Mistress Miri years ago, a <em> real </em> mother would have had the decency to just kill Yennefer as she took her first breath rather than make her wake up every day in the dirt knowing that the pain won’t ever end and act like <em> that </em>was mercy) and her three half-siblings (they have names, Yennefer knows they have names, Julek uses them often enough, but they’re strangers, and she can’t remember them, can’t help but hate them, even if they have the same bruises and shadowy eyes that Julek does, because unlike her little prince these three were perfectly happy to leave Yennefer alone in the dark and the cold) stare at her blankly like a bunch of cowards, but even imagining Julek’s cries at seeing his big sister carted away make Yennefer want to collapse. </p><p>It will be worth not being able to say goodbye if Yennefer doesn’t have to see Julek cry. </p><p>So Yennefer goes with the woman who’s bought her for less than a pig is worth (Yennefer is worth four marks, and this, this is something that stays, this is something that festers and burns and infects every part of her for the next eighty years) without kicking up a fuss. She doesn’t ask to go back to the barn and grab the latest flower crown Julek had made her, despite the fact that the idea of leaving without some tangible tie to the Garden Court and her beautiful, sunshine baby brother makes Yennefer <em> ache </em>, she doesn’t turn to beg her mother to remember what being a mother should mean, she doesn’t spare a moment’s thought to the three children behind her. She follows the woman obediently and quietly and hopes that if she moves quickly enough, they’ll be out of sight before Julek comes bounding home, sky-blue eyes bright and giddy, his dark hair a wild, tangled mess and his mouth overflowing with new stories and songs, all just for her. </p><p>But Yennefer should have known that she would never be so lucky.</p><p>Julek is running to the house, whooping and cheering as he and Mistress Miri’s nephews chatter excitedly about how they found a frog and can they keep it <em> please please please! </em> Julek isn’t the one holding the frog, thank the gods-- Yennfer doesn’t want to imagine what their mother’s husband would do if Julek tried to bring a frog into his house, but her little brother comes rushing up to her, his mouth going a mile a minute as he recounts his adventures at breakneck speed, completely ignoring the woman in front of them, the woman who has just purchased Yennefer without even the slightest bit of protest from her own family. </p><p>Yennefer goes to take Julek in her arms one last time, to press a kiss to his little forehead and swear that she will find a way back to her Prince of Summer, to her treasured Duke of Daisies, but then the woman is taking her by the arm and Yennefer can’t help it now, can’t keep her anguish hidden. She begins to cry, trying desperately to reach for her baby brother who braids her hair and brings her flowers and calls her beautiful and means it the way only a child can. </p><p>Julek sees her tears, sees the woman dragging her away, sees their stepfather and his eyes go wide and terrified. He begins to follow Yennefer and the other woman, his little arms outstretched, but then their mother’s husband hauls him back and grips him tight, yelling all manner of terrible threats that Yennefer knows he is all too capable of following through with, and it makes Yennefer all the more insistent that she get back to Julek, makes her start yelling, begging the woman to let her go, <em> please, he’s only a little boy, he’s my baby brother, he can’t see this, please, he’s everything, everything, you don’t understand, please let me go, please-- </em><br/>
<br/>
“Yenna!” Julek screams, his voice louder and more piercing than it has ever been. Yennefer almost wants to cover her ears, but she is too busy trying to reach her brother, who is too good and too perfect for her, too good and too perfect for <em> anyone</em>, who does not deserve to be seeing this. “Give Yenna back, give my sister back, give Yenna <em> back!</em>”</p><p>Julek’s voice has always seemed almost magical. When he sings, even the birds stop to listen. When he sings, even Yennefer’s step-father begins to hum along, even their taciturn, hollow mother taps her foot to the beat. But now, there is an other-worldly friction in the air, humming and electric, and for a moment, Yennefer sees the woman study Julek with the same look of careful consideration that she granted Yennefer before purchasing her. Yennefer is gripped by a sudden, violent realization that, however terrible it might be to leave Julek behind, it would be unimaginably worse for him to come with her. </p><p>“It will be alright, Julek,” Yennefer soothes, praying to gods she doesn’t believe in that her new owner will not seek to take Julek too, that Yennefer will be able to save her little brother from whatever horrors she is going to endure. The woman’s grip on her arm slackens, just a bit, as she realizes that Yennefer is no longer trying to run. “I’m going to be okay, it’s all okay, I promise.”</p><p>“Yenna!” Julek is sobbing now, his blue eyes red-rimmed and puffy as he struggles against their step-father’s hold. Their mother has stepped out of the entrance to their home, has bent down next to Julek and is whispering into his ear, but his cries do not cease and the buzzing in the air is getting louder. “Yenna!”</p><p>“Hush, little prince,” Yennefer is struggling to keep her voice steady but she must, she must. She stares into his eyes (his eyes that are just a little too blue to be human but not so blue that he’s unsafe and Yennefer has never been more grateful for how lucky her sunshine brother is) and she <em> wills </em> him silent, <em> wills </em> her love to envelop him, to comfort him, <em> wills </em> Julek to listen. “I will be with you, for forever and always, come rain or shine. I’ll see you again, I promise, Julek, hush now, it will all be alright.”</p><p>Julek doesn’t stop crying, but he quiets considerably, burying his face into their mother’s breast. Yennefer looks at the woman and has to stifle a sigh of relief when she sees that the cursed look of consideration has gone and now all her focus is once again on Yennefer.</p><p>“Come, then,” the woman says, surveying the scene with a look of haughty distaste. Her voice is careful, is controlled, is blistering in its coolness, and Yennefer <em> hates </em>it, hates her. “We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”</p><p>(In another world, one where Yennefer had no brother to protect and no promise to keep, she might have been tempted to do what she believes her mother should have done fourteen years ago the second she was left alone in her chambers in Aretuza. But in this world, Yennefer has Julek waiting for her, has reasons to stay alive and Ascend beyond beauty or Istredd’s love or the promise of power. No, Yennefer needs to live and Ascend for her prince, for her little brother who sang so sweetly and called her beautiful and meant it long before it was ever true. </p><p>In another world, one where Julek did not have to see his big sister carted away like livestock, where he did not beg and scream and cry for his Yenna to be given back to him, Yennefer forgives Tissaia de Vries for the way they met, forgives her and admires her and loves her in a delicate, halting way that is still too tangible to be dismissed, too visceral to be denied. But in this world, there is only bitterness, there is only pain, there is only hiding her hatred until it is no longer inconvenient. In this world, Yennefer never forgets that calculating, cunning look in Tissaia’s eye, never forgets the high price of power.)</p>
<hr/><p>Julek is on his hands and knees in the vegetable garden when a grand golden carriage pulled by two white horses begins making its way down the lane and stops in front of his house. Julek doesn’t look up. He doesn’t care about any excitement, hasn’t told a story or sung a song since Yenna was taken. His mother is worried for him, he knows, but he doesn’t really like her anymore, not since she stood all quiet while the stone-faced lady dragged Julek’s sister away. Julek doesn’t like Bianka, Iza, and Marcin anymore either-- they didn’t even cry when Yenna was taken, didn’t cry or yell or even try to fight for her. Marcin hadn’t even known her name.</p><p>No, Julek doesn’t look up, even as two pairs of fine boots walk towards him. He doesn’t care if they’re fairies or mages or any other wondrous thing because nothing could be as wondrous as Yenna’s quiet huff of laughter whenever Julek said something clever. Nothing could be as special as the way that Yenna’s eyes would light up whenever she saw Julek or the way that she would press tiny kisses to the top of his head and tell him she loved him <em> so, so much my little prince </em> whenever she thought he’d fallen asleep. </p><p>Julek is six years old and he no longer wants to be part of an adventure, not when his big sister, the Queen of the Wildflowers and the most beautiful person in the whole wide world, still hasn’t come back for him-- and she <em> will </em> come back for him, she’d <em> promised</em>, Julek just has to patient for a little while longer.</p><p>The two pairs of boots stop in front of him, but Julek keeps his head down and focuses on weeding. Then, a soft, sweet-smelling hand reaches out and tilts Julek’s head up before he can protest, and suddenly Julek is looking at two well-dressed women, one with hair the color of chestnuts piled atop her head and pale blue eyes and one with yellow curls hanging down her back and lips the color of ripe strawberries. They are wearing clothing finer than Julek has ever seen, and for a moment, Julek forgets that Yenna is gone, forgets that she was stolen from him, thinks only of the songs he will sing her about the way the sunlight glimmered off of the gold in their ears and the gemstones at their throats. But then he remembers and the world is cold again.</p><p>“He has your husband’s hair,” the blonde-haired woman notes clinically as the brunette cups Julek’s face in her hand. Julek tries to pull his face away, but her grip is too strong. “And his chin. This could be the boy.”</p><p>“You said appearance wouldn’t matter, Evia,” the brunette retorts, though she does run her free hand through Julek’s hair as if in deep thought, her eyes studying Julek closely as if she’s peering through a display window and deciding what she wants to buy. Julek wants to run, wants to scream for someone, but Father is at the tavern and his mother and siblings are at the market with Mistress Miri. If Yenna had not been taken, she would be in the barn and Julek would have had somebody to come save him from these women who Julek can’t offend because they are noble and powerful and are wearing more gold than Julek has ever seen in one place. “Though I do like the look of him.”</p><p>“The spell will convince Lyria that he is <em> your </em> son, Alessia,” Evia replies tiredly, as if this is a conversation they have had many times before. “I’d rather not have us go to all this trouble only for you to be accused of adultery.”</p><p>“Yes, yes,” Alessia grouses. Julek’s face is still trapped in her hand. She tilts his chin up further, cocking her head to one side. His eyes are stinging with tears. “You’re right, of course. I’ll have this one, then, if you’re so sure.”</p><p>Evia smirks wryly at her companion, her straight white teeth glinting like daggers. She surveys Julek’s front yard, leaf-green eyes roving over the dilapidated barn and the faded paint of his cottage’s front door. She takes out four clear crystals from the folds of her crimson gown and kneels so that she is of a height with Julek. Alessia takes Julek by the arm and pulls him close to her so that his ear is pressed to her chest. Julek begins to struggle in earnest, then, calling out for his mother, but Alessia claps her hand over his mouth and hisses that he’ll be quiet if he knows what’s good for him. </p><p>The thing is, Father has been saying something quite similar for the entirety of Julek’s life, so the threat means very little to him now. Julek bites down on the noblewoman’s hand, earning him a surprised, pained yelp and just enough time to wriggle out of her grasp.</p><p>“Mama!” Julek screams, <em> willing </em> his mother to hear him, <em> willing </em> Mistress Miri to see him, <em> willing </em>his half-siblings to come running towards him. “Mama, help!”</p><p>Julek is not phased by the stinging slap one of the women-- he is never sure which, even years later-- gives him, is unconcerned with Alessia’s bruising grip on his arm and the strange words coming out of Evia’s mouth. Julek doesn’t spare either of them a glance. If he had, he would have seen the four crystals begin to glow, would have seen beams of white-gold light being drawn from his house, from his garden, from his barn, would have seen the physical form of his family’s memories of him being leached away through Evia’s ethereal chanting. </p><p>Julek is six years old and has never had enough to eat, so his voice is not powerful enough to bring his mother to him. He isn’t surprised. He almost feels like he deserves it. If Julek’s voice couldn’t save Yenna, it shouldn’t be able to save him either. </p><p>“Is it done, then?” Alessia asks as Evia buries the four crystals (they’re glowing like stars and for a moment, Julek forgets to be afraid, so lovely they look) throughout his family’s plot, hauling Julek up and dragging him towards her carriage. “They won’t remember?”</p><p>“No one in town will have any recollection of the boy,” Evia promises, brushing her hands on her dress and taking Julek’s other arm. Together, they manage to maneuver Julek into the carriage despite his vehement protests and impassioned attempts at escape. Evia slams the carriage door shut and pounds on the little room’s low ceiling. With a lurch, they start moving, and Julek starts to cry. </p><p>“Hush, child,” Alessia croons, letting go of his arm to rub circles into his back. “I know you are afraid, sweetling, but we’re going to help you. How would you like to be a Viscount one day, hmm?”</p><p>Julek shakes his head and cries harder. He doesn’t want to be a Viscount, he wants to be the Duke of Daisies, he wants to be the Prince of Summer, and he can’t be either of those without Yenna. He wants <em> Yenna</em>.</p><p>The women sigh in unison. Alessia gives up on her shoddy attempts at comfort and goes to sit by Evia. Julek stops crying and reverts to sulking by the second hour, and by the fifth, Evia and Alessia are kissing, only it’s different from how Yenna used to kiss Julek, it’s how Mistress Miri used to kiss Mama. Alessia tangles her small hands into Evia’s long, flowing hair and they both make noises that make Julek wrinkle his nose and bury his head into one of the many plush cushions in the carriage. They ride for a day and half, only stopping to switch out their horses or relieve themselves on the side of the forest road. </p><p>They arrive at their destination at nightfall, and Julek is so grateful to be able to walk again that he follows the two women without making a fuss. Alessia brings him into a huge room with periwinkle walls and soft, lemon-yellow carpeting and helps him out of his dusty clothes before dunking him into a copper bathtub and pouring oils into the warm, frothy water. She spreads a cream that smells like springtime all over his head, working his hair into a lather. Julek sings quietly to himself, too tired to be afraid of Alessia and too comfortable to be angry with her. He’s never had a hot bath before-- he’s the youngest, so he always gets the last bath of the day, and the water is always murky and cool by the time it’s his turn. </p><p>After a few moments, Alessia begins to sing a low harmony to Julek’s melody, her voice sweet and clear. Julek turns to look at her, his eyes wide, and a grin starts to spread across his face. No one has ever sang with him before. When she smiles back at him, her eyes soft for the first time since they’ve met, it’s the most lovely thing Julek has seen since Yenna was taken away. He continues to sing as she pours warm water over his head, rinsing out the bubbles in his hair before she goes to scrub his arms and chest. Their voices complement each other, making the old folk song seem new. When the song is over, Julek almost feels sad. Splashing a little in the bath, Julek starts to sing an old sea shanty to break the new silence, one he learned from one of Father’s friends who once worked on a ship. He’s the only person Julek knows who has ever been to the coast. Alessia doesn’t join in this time, but she hums along and claps in all the right places.</p><p><em> We're homeward bound, I hear them say,<br/>
</em> <em> We're homeward bound with eleven months pay!<br/>
</em> <em> Our anchor we'll weigh, our sails we will set,<br/>
</em> <em> The friends we are leaving we'll never forget! </em></p><p>“Have you been to the ocean, sweetling?” Alessia asks Julek, motioning for him to rise so that she can dry him off with soft, fluffy towels. Julek shakes his head, droplets of water dripping down his neck. She smiles again, still soft, but now she looks a little sad, which makes Julek sad too. He doesn’t like her very much-- he wants her to bring him back home so that he can wait for Yenna, wants her to explain what Evia was doing when she was chanting over those crystals. But Alessia had <em> sang </em> with him, and no one’s ever done that before, not even Yenna, so Julek thinks that she must be a good person, and good people shouldn’t be sad. He thinks that she must be upset because she’s never been to the ocean either. </p><p>“We can go together,” Julek offers kindly, pressing his cheek against hers for a brief moment. She smells like roses and spiced tea. “That way we can both have someone to play with.” </p><p>Alessia runs a hand through Julek’s damp hair, her eyes shiny like Yenna’s eyes used to get whenever Julek called his sister beautiful. He frowns, placing a small hand on her cheek and tilting his head to one side. </p><p>“Why are you sad?” Julek asks. “Do you not want me with you when you see the ocean?”</p><p>“No, sweetling,” Alessia replies soothingly, but her voice is thick as she eases a soft nightshirt over Julek’s head. “No, darling, I would love to see the ocean with you. Who wouldn’t want to see the ocean with such a sweet boy?”</p><p>Julek thinks deeply for a moment. </p><p>“My brother Marcin, probably,” he guesses, taking her offered hand as she leads him to a big bed with too many pillows for Julek to count. She lifts him by his waist and settles him into the bed, pulling the soft sheets and furs up to his chin. “He’s scared of the river, and the ocean is as big as three rivers <em> at least </em>.”</p><p>“At least,” Alessia agrees, smiling as she sits on the side of the bed, her hand resting on Julek’s belly and rubbing soothing circles. He can feel her warmth through the sheets and blankets. She turns to look over her shoulder as Evia walks into the room and locks the door with a soft <em> click</em>. When she speaks again, her words are directed to the blonde woman. “Is it time, then?”</p><p>Evia nods solemnly, walking over to them so that she is standing right above Julek. She places a dry, cool hand on his forehead and begins chanting in that same strange language from before, bright white light escaping from her fingertips and bouncing around the room, making everything glow. Alessia is crying now, but when Julek goes to reach for her, she presses his hands down into the mattress and soothes him with that same old folk song that they’d sang together while he was in the bath. Slowly, Julek can feel his eyelids growing heavy, and soon the light show around him is gone and there are only the soft whispers of the two women above him. </p><p>“It’s done.” Evia says. “He’s Julian Alfred Pankratz now. You’ve done your duty.”</p><p>“And they’ll all remember him?” Alessia asks, her voice shaky as she traces the contours of Julek’s face with her fingers. He tries to chase the warmth, but he is too sleepy to move. His eyelids slide shut. “They’ll all think he was mine?”</p><p>“Everyone,” Evia promises, her tone soft and kind. “From the poorest peasant to Emilia and Alexandre. You’ve bought yourself a Julian with his family’s sacrifices and your own. You’ve done it, Alessia. It’s all over.”</p><p>“Oh, gods,” Alessia gasps as she cups Julek’s face in her hand more securely. She sounds very far away. He hopes they’ll be going to the ocean soon. “I never even… We never even knew this boy’s name.”</p><p>“It’s Julian,” Evia replies firmly, but there is tenderness there too, if Julek listens carefully for it. “Whatever his name might have been before, it’s Julian now, and that’s all that matters.”</p><p>“Evia--”</p><p>“I know, love, I know.”</p><p>Julek wakes with Alessia’s cold body draped on top of him, her hand still wrapped in Evia’s. He doesn’t scream. Julek has learned that screaming is of no use. But he does cry, and Evia wakes suddenly at his muffled whimpers, only taking one long moment to stare at Alessia’s corpse before she refocuses on him and curses.</p><p>“You shouldn’t be awake,” she mutters angrily, starting to chant in that strange language once more as she manhandles Julek. He’s crying, looking at Alessia’s pale face, hot, fat tears that burn as they fall. “Unless…”</p><p>Evia is silent for one long, tense moment.</p><p>“You’re part-elf,” she says gravely. Julek flinches, opening his mouth to argue, because the first lesson Mama ever taught him was that he was <em> human, human, human</em>. But Evia is having none of it. “Don’t you try to deny it. Your magic must have protected you somehow, kept you from losing your memories. You remember your name, don’t you? You remember who you are. You know that Alessia wasn’t your mother.”</p><p>“My name is Julek,” he replies quietly, nervously, his eyes still locked on the body of a woman who died so that her husband could have a son. Mama wouldn’t have died for him, though she might have thought about it hard before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort. Father would have simply killed Julek himself given half a chance. The only person who ever loved and wanted Julek enough to die for him would have been Yenna, but she is far, far away. Viscounts have armies though. They have armies and advisors and spies and more gold than Julek could count. If Julek had armies and advisors and spies and gold maybe he could find Yenna and steal her back from that thin-lipped lady who took her. He could find her and build her a garden and give her a crown of diamonds instead of dandelions. But beyond Yenna, Julek wants Alessia, who sang so sweetly and washed his hair more tenderly than Mama ever had, to have a son. If she cannot see the ocean, she should have a son. So Julek swallows and turns to Evia, chin held high.</p><p>“My name <em> was </em> Julek,” the boy corrects himself, more confident now, drawing himself up so that his spine is ramrod straight. “My name <em> is </em> Julian.”</p><p>Evia lets out a long, shuddering breath.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” she agrees, her green eyes stony and satisfied. “Yes, it is.”</p><p>(It’s very easy being Julian, Julian who has a garden and a title and talks too much and too loudly and longs to see the ocean, Julian who sings and tells stories and laughs delightedly at everything and anything. It’s easy to love his older sister Emilia (who has sharp eyes and a sharper tongue and makes him laugh with her scathing wit in the middle of their father’s very important dinner parties, who loves Julian very, very much), easy to avoid his father-who-isn’t-really (who is cold and calculating and grasping and always wants more than Julian can give, who doesn’t hit Julian because he hires other men to do it for him), easy to mourn his mother (who kidnapped him and bathed him and sang to him and died in his too-small arms, who wanted him more than anybody else ever had), easy to fall into the life that Evia built for him. </p><p>It’s easy to hate Evia. It’s easy to want her dead, easy to despise her for stealing his family’s memories and for killing a desperate woman who loved her and for boxing his ears whenever he struggles to keep Julian’s story straight. It’s easy to hate magic and that strange language that comes with it, easy to spit out slurs against sorcerers and witches, easy to spread the lie that gets Evia expelled from Turnifen for good. Lord Alexandre almost smiles at Julian, after, which should worry him, but the sweet satisfaction of finally avenging Alessia and Julek both is worth Emilia’s confused glares.</p><p>It’s a good thing, how easy it is to be Julian. The easier it is to be Julian, the better he is at <em> being </em> Julian, the sooner he can find Yenna. The easier it is, the sooner Julian can be Julek again.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The sea shanty in this story is "Good Bye, Fare Thee Well" and can be found here: https://shanty.rendance.org/lyrics/showlyric.php/goodbye </p><p>I hope you all enjoyed! The next chapter should be up soon. I hope that you and your families are all staying safe and healthy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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